Traditions
by Fosterchild
Summary: A Tim and Dallas Christmas oneshot. Not slash.


_**I don't own these guys. I just like to play with them once in awhile. **_

_**Traditions**_

Dallas didn't know what the big deal was about Christmas. He couldn't remember ever believing in Santa Claus or having much to look forward to on Christmas morning.

When he lived with his mom as a little kid, she tried a little bit. She always got some crazy looking little tree and put a few lights on it and silver tinsel. She bought Dallas a couple toys and a few things he needed like jeans and shoes.

The only problem with his mom was that she worked in a bar every year on Christmas Eve and was too tired on Christmas Day to really spend any time with him so he'd open his presents with her then she'd fall asleep and he'd play with them alone until he got bored. She'd apologize when she woke up saying she couldn't not work the night before because the money was too good.

By the time he moved back to Tulsa to live with his dad, she had pretty much given up on even trying and he'd usually end up with the extra pack of smokes his mom bought for herself and gave him as an afterthought.

Forget his dad. He didn't know from Christmas. To him it was an extra, paid day off to hang around the house, drink and possibly get laid if he found some other desperate, willing person to come home with him. There was no pathetic tree, no presents, not even a pack of smokes. Just another day in the life.

The only people he knew who knew what Christmas was about were the Curtis family. They invited Dallas for dinner every Christmas Eve for as long as he had been friends with them. In fact, they invited all the guys over and they always had a good time.

Dallas always left right after dinner. Mrs. Curtis asked him to stay but he would tell her he had to leave, had plans with his dad and she'd look at him, know he was lying but let him think she believed him because that's how she was. She knew the score. But she always made sure to give him a small gift before he left, usually new gloves or a scarf, something she knew he needed.

If he was honest with himself, the reason he'd leave after dinner was because he didn't want to see what he was missing. They always had a real tree in the living room and a few presents under it that he was sure 'Santa' added to by morning. And they had each other.

XXX

Dallas walked down the porch steps and lit a cigarette, then pulled on his new black gloves. He made his way down to the lot, thinking he'd make a fire and relax for awhile before heading home. He had no desire to get home before he knew the old man would be passed out either asleep or drunk.

After he got the fire going, he plopped down on the lone car seat and reached into the inside pocket of his jacket to get the bottle of beer he'd made away with from the Curtis' fridge. He cracked it open with his teeth and took a long swig enjoying the way it fizzed down his throat and warmed his stomach.

"You gonna share that?" a deep voice asked from just past the fire.

Dallas looked up to see Tim come into the fire's light and smiled wickedly at him. "Get your own, Shepard."

Tim stretched out next to him on the seat and pulled a bottle out of his own pocket. He, too, cracked it open with his teeth and held it up to Dallas, "Merry Christmas."

"Yeah, Merry Christmas," Dallas replied sardonically.

They each took a belt of their beer and sat in silence for a couple minutes until Dallas glanced sideways at Tim. "What are you doing out here tonight? I thought you'd have a big ole Shepard Christmas going on at your house."

Tim chuckled. "Yeah, well the kids went to bed, my mom and the bastard are busy getting soused and I wasn't tired. Thought a walk around the neighborhood in the quiet would be nice. What about you?"

Dallas made a noise in his throat. "Yeah, well I'm busy watching for Santa's sleigh."

Tim laughed at the conversation he knew by heart.

Dallas had been back in Tulsa for about four years. Dallas sat in this lot every Christmas Eve for four years. Tim noticed Dallas sitting in the lot the first year when he really was just taking a stroll in the quiet after the kids had gone to bed and his mom and his stepfather got drunk. Tim made it a point to come by the lot every year after that.

Neither of them had ever said a word about it. Dallas really didn't even think about it till Tim was there in front of him. Tim thought about it, though.

While Tim wasn't exactly what one would call festive and while his home life wasn't picture perfect, he had a lot more than Dallas did, especially this time of year.

He remembered believing in Santa and opening presents on Christmas morning when he was a kid. He remembered how excited he and his siblings would be the night before, trying to be good and go to sleep but letting every noise they heard wake them up thinking it was Santa.

As Tim got older, of course, the thrill wore off but he still found it kind of nice, the whole holiday season. There was something about it that brought back the memory of innocence in him. And his brother and sister, tough as they tried to be, were still young enough to get excited about it all and Tim liked watching them.

Dallas, though, had nothing to be thrilled about during the holidays. Tim wondered if he ever had. So he made it a point every year to come hang out with him on Christmas Eve every year just for a little bit so he wasn't alone.

XXX

Tim grabbed two beers out of the fridge and walked out the door. He walked steadily to the lot and sat down on the empty carseat. This time there was no fire. This time it was colder, darker, more quiet.

Tim cracked open his beer with his teeth like usual and took a long drink. He sat for a few minutes just listening, waiting for some sound of boots clumping though the old newspapers and garbage that littered the lot. He was met with more silence.

He finished the first beer quickly and bit open the second and held it up to the sky. "Merry Christmas, Dal."


End file.
